A metaphor can be a very dangerous tool to wield; quite often while
you are trying to reference one particular aspect of a thing, myriad other
associations and relations spring to peoples' minds and they may well be
quite different from those correspondences you intended to summon.
Such is definitely the case with The Iron Giant by Ted Hughes--once
England's poet laureate, now best remembered, albeit unfairly, by angry
feminists as the husband who drove Sylvia Plath to her grave. Hughes
tells the amiable story of a huge metal robot who crashes to Earth and
after putting himself back together begins to sate his enormous appetite
for metal by devouring cars and tractors and the like. Infuriated
local farmers trap him, despite the efforts of one friendly boy named Hogarth.
But the Iron Giant turns out to be quite useful when an enormous space-bat-angel-dragon
attacks Earth and demands a tribute of animate matter to consume.
The Iron Giant agrees to battle the monster, vanquishes him and determines
that the creature is actually peaceful but was attracted to Earth by man's
violence. The space-bat-angel-dragon agrees to return to space, where
his "music of the spheres" has such a calming effect that Earth becomes
a peaceful place.

Now the intent of Hughes's original story, as well as that of the very
good recent movie which is loosely based on it, is to show the futility
of war, violence, etc. Hughes book was written at the height of the
Cold War and the space-bat-angel-dragon can be understood to be the Left's
idealized version of the Soviet Union--a threat only because of our own
attitudes and actions. The Soviet Union having been disposed of in
subsequent years, the movie makes a more generalized anti-gun, anti-military,
pro-nonconformity statement. But the truly delicious irony in both
cases is that the most obvious subtext of the story is at war with the
intended central message. Because, at the end of the day, the Iron
Giant is nothing less than Ronald Reagan's Strategic Defense Initiative
come to life and saving the world. The author's pacifist message
and the filmmaker's antiestablishment message are overwhelmed by the powerful
metaphorical symbol of a gigantic defensive weapon being the only thing
standing between mankind and certain destruction. How delightful
the irony that book and movie basically end up being pleas for the biggest
boondoggle in the history of the military-industrial complex.

I liked both book and movie very much. The film in particular
may be the best non-Disney animated feature film ever made. Obviously
the symbolism of the Iron Giant has escaped the control of the storytellers;
but the metaphorical ironies merely add an additional layer of enjoyment.

Dorothy C. Judd adds:Reading The Iron Giant by Ted Hughes made me long for a classroom
of young children who would listen wide-eyed to this tale. He uses
such descriptive language that even the laziest listener could picture
the Giant, the space-bat-angel-dragon, and the action precisely as Hughes
intended. However, I should add that Hogarth, the boy, though clever,
is lost in the shadow of these exciting figures. The story yields infinite
possibilities for follow-up writing, drama, and art activities.

But on another level? As a parable? I would equate the Iron Giant
with technology, the space-bat-angel-dragon, come to Earth, with fallen
man, human greed, and ambition. It is not surprising that the contest
between the two is by fire and a proposed three rounds, familiar Biblical
references. It is interesting to imagine that the battle cries and
war cries of Earth drown out the music of the spheres and that once heard,
the "strange soft music" could bring about world peace.

But in either capacity - tall tale or parable - the ending is, though
idyllic, too abrupt and unconvincing.